Wil Ogden - The Nightstone

“I don’t care what you’re reason is,” Sheillene said. “What you did was abandon my friend.”

“I didn’t abandon anyone,” The other voice, which Pantros recognized as Thomas’, said. “I did what I did when I did because that’s when I did it.”

“You’re going to have to repeat that again,” Sheillene said. “Slowly and in a language I would understand. First, let’s get to the part where you explain why you are inside and out here at the same time.”

“I’m a lot older than the me that is inside,” Thomas said. “I am far older than anyone thinks.”

“So the oldest Abvi is around ten thousand years old,” Sheillene said. “Are you close to that?”

“Not remotely. More than a hundred times that,” Thomas said. “I’ve lived to the end of time and back to the beginning and now I’m here again. And when I say here I’m referencing a point in time.”

“You travel through time?” Sheillene asked.

“No,” Thomas said. “I live through time. The guy in the Inn is me in the decades after I was born. I was him a long time ago in my past. I am currently in my third, and I believe final, trip through the timeline. Just be glad you haven’t met me while I was living through time backwards. Even for me, it was confusing to wake up each day a day earlier than the one I went to sleep. The worst part about those million years was that I could never travel more than a day from my home.”

“You’re over two million years old?” Sheillene asked.

“Just barely,” Thomas said.

“How can that be?” Sheillene said. “Are you a god?”

“Not for lack of trying,” Thomas said. “The gods have issues with me; they say I know too much. I tell the truth when it is inconvenient.”

“But that’s a curse,” Sheillene said.

“Not really,” Thomas said. “I just adopted the story of another Thomas, one who lived a much shorter life. I’ve just been around a while, so I get the chance to know an awful lot of things. And I share a bit of consciousness with my other selves. I remember being the young Thomas and how insane I thought I was. It’s odd knowing things that I don’t remember learning, but then later in my life I learned them and the young me has some access to that knowledge.”

“Why are you here?” Sheillene said.”Why drag me into this alley?”

“You’re going to tell the story,” Thomas said. “The story of Pantros and Kehet and the battle of Melnith?”

“I’m working on something,” Sheillene said.

“Then you need to be able to explain why the Thomas in that tavern is married to Tara and can’t say why,” Thomas said. “I’m explaining why, for your story.”

“But ten years ago, in Ignea, that was you, this version of you?” Sheillene said.

“There’s only one version of me,” Thomas said. “It’s not like I died and was remade. But yes, that was me during this trip through the timeline.”

“So when you left and left me to explain to Tara, it wasn’t because you discovered the death of Tara’s parents, you clearly already knew that from the memories of the Thomas inside.”

“My memories get a little fuzzy after so long,” Thomas said. “But I knew the truth all along. I know lots of truths that I won’t share. I just knew I had to get out of the picture before the younger me came into the picture. Sometimes I just do things because I know that’s how I did or was going to do them. I’ve yet to find a way to change anything I know to be true about history, even the history that hasn’t yet been written for you, because it’s all been written for me. Luckily, I never told my younger selves the day to day details of every day from this trip through time. Most days are still full of surprises.”

“I guess you are not coming inside,” Sheillene asked.

“Me and my younger selves bump into each other now and then, but not tonight,” Thomas said. “Go inside; don’t let your husband have all the fun.”

“I’m not married,” Sheillene said. “I’m not even engaged or for that matter romantically involved with anyone.”

“Oops,” Thomas said. Pantros could hear the mirth in the man’s voice. Then there were footsteps walking deeper into the alley.

“Who?” Sheillene shouted. She repeated it again louder.

Jovial laughter came from the far end of the alley.

“Did you hear?” Sheillene asked. Pantros hadn’t heard her step out of the alley but she stood an arm’s length away looking at him with suspicion.

“I did,” Pantros said. “Just to clear, it’s not me.”

“Not you?” Sheillene asked.

“I’m not interested in being your or anyone else’s husband,” Pantros said. “But I can guess who.”

“Really?” Sheillene asked, her voice low with disbelief.

“Don’t get too jealous of Beldithe,” Pantros said. “He’s not yours, yet.”

“The half-ogre?” Sheillene asked. The term had changed from a jibe when they’d first met Marc. It now sounded more like a pet name or an endearment.

Pantros just smiled then turned and walked into the Tavern. Sheillene followed several minutes later.

The sun was low in the sky when Pantros finally left the tavern. Thomas and Sheillene were still taking turns on stage telling stories or playing their instruments. Aemelia had left the party early with Kehet, though the Unicorn prince had returned moments later. It seems she’d managed to convince him to give her a ride back to the inn where her mother was staying. She’d only asked him a dozen times through the night.

Marc and Beldithe disappeared somewhere around midnight. Tara slept at a table by the stage.

Kehet caught up to Pantros as he walked back towards the palace.

“Steal any good purses lately?” Kehet asked.

“What?” Pantros asked. He hadn’t been practicing his trade during the celebration.

“How does one start a conversation with a thief?” Kehet asked.

Pantros shrugged. “‘Good Morning’ would probably work just fine,” he said.

“Well good morning, then,” Kehet said.

“You’re remarkably sober,” Pantros said, his mind still blurred, though he’d stopped drinking shortly after midnight. At least he didn’t remember drinking after Thomas’s ‘Midnight Merriment’ song.

“It’s a Unicorn curse,” Kehet said. “No poison works on my kind, not even alcohol. I could cure your minor case of being hung over.”

“Can I call it hung over if I haven’t been to sleep yet?” Pantros asked.

“So you and Mirica weren’t sleeping for the two hours you disappeared into the back room?” Kehet asked.

“I what?” Pantros asked. It seemed there was more than drinking that he’d forgotten. But thinking back, he could remember most of getting very friendly with Thomas’ sister.

“Stand still,” Kehet said. The man then changed to a large Unicorn and without warning, stuck Pantros in the arm with his horn. Before Pantros could complain, Kehet had changed back.

“What was that for?” Pantros asked.

“Feeling better?” Kehet asked.

It took only a breath to realize that not only was he no longer hung over, he was no longer tired. Aside from a small, bleeding prick in his arm, he felt fine. “Mostly,” Pantros said. “I now not only have a hole in my shirt, but it’s getting bloodstained.”

“But you’re sober?” Kehet asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Pantros confirmed.

“Good,” Kehet said. “Because I’ve been thinking about the demons and your gem and I don’t think it’s over.”

“Oh?” Pantros asked. “You think there’s someone else who wants to summon all the demons in hell to Mealth?”

“I think the same someone is going to try again,” Kehet said. “None of the demons we killed stood out as a leader among their kind. Somewhere, they have a general or a king directing them.”